


The Very Best Of Times

by whoyoureallyare



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, But it's too late, Confession, If Moriarty hadn't come back, John knows how Sherlock feels, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Not Happy, The Tarmac Scene, They're just way too late, This is what would happen if Eurus didn't exist, seriously this is not happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoyoureallyare/pseuds/whoyoureallyare
Summary: When Sherlock says goodbye to John before boarding the airplane, John knows how Sherlock feels.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	The Very Best Of Times

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write an AU where Eurus doesn't exist - so Moriarty doesn't make an appearance on the screen. Instead, John and Sherlock have a conversation before Sherlock is sent to exile and probable death. 
> 
> Apologies for any grammar/spelling errors.
> 
> Enjoy!

Sherlock was going to die. 

He was going to die sometime in the next six months. 

He was certain of it. Mycroft was certain of it. And John didn’t know. 

He was being forced to say goodbye, most likely for forever, and he and John didn’t have much time left. Ten minutes at most. Sherlock tried to avoid making eye contact as he told John where he was going, but found he couldn’t look away from John’s face. 

“And then what?” John was looking up at him. 

_And then I die._ But he couldn’t tell John that, could he? He settled for saying, “Who knows?” 

With every second passing, Sherlock felt his heart break even more. It wasn’t fair. He deserved it, of course. He killed a man and it wasn’t in self defense. He just didn’t know how he was going to survive his remaining time without John. 

Sherlock had to tell him. But he didn’t want to put any pressure on John. “John.” John tilted his head. “There’s something I should say. I meant to say, always, and I never have.” He paused. He needed to be careful about how he worded this. “Since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again,” that much was true. They definitely would not meet again, “I might as well say it now.” He wanted to tell him. John deserved to know everything. How much Sherlock loved him. How he wished things were different. How it should be them together, not him and Mary. 

He couldn’t say any of that. He opened his mouth, intending to make a joke - maybe telling John that Sherlock is actually a girl’s name - but John interrupted him.

“I know.”

“What?”

“I know,” John repeated. He swallowed. “I felt the same way.” 

“So, in fact, you mean…” 

“Yes.”

“You…” Sherlock couldn’t say anything else, could only widen his eyes in shock. 

“Yes.” John smiled at him. His eyes were dark blue, watery, and so, so sad. “I was-am-in love with you.”

“Mary…”

“Mary knows, I think,” John said. “She doesn’t care much.”

“She’s your wife.”

“We’re not really together anymore. I couldn’t do that, not after she lied. We’re still friends, just not...in love.”

“Oh.” A flicker of hope stirred in Sherlock’s chest. He ignored it. It didn’t matter how John felt. He would never see him again after this. 

“You’re my best friend. Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson, remember?”

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain his composure. Why did he wait so long? Why? They could’ve been happy, they could’ve been together, they could’ve been married. He let out a shaky breath. “Why didn’t we talk about this...earlier?”

John laughed quietly. “We’ve never been good at communication.”

“No, we haven’t.” Sherlock focused on his breathing. In, out. In, out. A tear slipped down John’s face, and he gently wiped it away with his thumb. “It’s okay, John.”

“No, it’s not.” Another tear. _You’re right, it’s not okay._

“You will be okay, though. You’ll have Mary, and your daughter.” _I’ll have no one._

“But I won’t have you.” 

Sherlock attempted a smile, though he was almost crying himself. He gently placed his hand on the small of John’s back, and when John didn’t pull away, Sherlock drew him closer. John pressed his face into Sherlock’s shoulder. He was shaking with silent sobs. Sherlock put his other hand on the back of John’s head and rested his head on John’s. He breathed in deeply, running his hand up and down John’s back. It was as intimate as it had been the first time Sherlock held him, after John’s confession. “Shhh. Breathe,” Sherlock whispered. He felt John attempting to breathe deeply, his body shuddering. John curled his fingers into Sherlock’s shirt. 

They stayed like that for several minutes. Sherlock kept muttering, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He never wanted to leave this position. He had to. His flight was going to leave soon. As soon as John’s breath was regulated, he gently lifted his head up and shifted slightly backwards. John looked up at him, tear stains on his cheeks. Sherlock felt his heart shatter at the sight and he had to fight not to cry. “I have to go,” Sherlock said, his voice gravelly. 

“No.” 

“I’m sorry, John.” Sherlock wiped another tear from John’s cheek and allowed his hand to linger there for a moment, stroking his cheekbone. John’s eyes widened. “Sorry, I…” Sherlock removed his hand hastily. 

John tangled his fingers in Sherlock’s hair and pulled his lips to Sherlock’s. The kiss was very brief, salty and warm. Sherlock smiled at him when they separated. “I had to,” John said. “I couldn’t let you go without-” Sherlock cut him off with another kiss. He wrapped his arm around John’s waist. One of John’s hands was still clutching Sherlock’s shirt, the other was in Sherlock’s hair.

They separated again, breathing heavily. “I really need to go,” Sherlock said, as gently as he could. John sighed but didn’t argue. Sherlock slowly stepped away and held out his hand. 

“To the very best of times, John.”

John grasped his hand. The handshake lasted for a bit too long. Neither of them wanted to let go, to say goodbye. 

When Sherlock let go of his hand, he didn’t turn around nor look back. John watched him walk away and board the plane. 

Once he was on the plane, he pressed his fist to his mouth. The same one John had just been holding. He allowed himself to cry then, finally, silently. The rumble of the plane grew louder as it began to taxi down the runway. Sherlock watched as the three of them, John, Mycroft, Mary, grew smaller, wishing he could go back in time. He hoped the drugs would start to work more soon, to relieve him of this pain. He wasn’t sure he could do this sober. He wasn’t sure he could do this at all. Not without John.

*****

It had been six months. John was beginning to lose all hope that Sherlock would come back. He hadn’t gone back to Baker Street, instead staying at the flat with Mary until other arrangements could be made. He was exhausted, his days filled with absolutely nothing.

He was sitting by the phone, head in his hands, when the phone rang. 

John jumped up, praying it was Sherlock. Excitement filled his chest and spread to the rest of his body. His hands shook as he picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Doctor Watson? It’s Mycroft. Mycroft Holmes.”

His stomach dropped instantly. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t listen. He wanted Mycroft to shut up. “I’m sorry, John.” Mycroft kept talking, but a buzzing sound filled John’s ears. He had heard enough. He knew. He hung up. 

John fell to his knees, clutching the phone. Tears burned in his eyes. _No._

*****

Earlier that day, somewhere in Eastern Europe, a fatal bullet ripped a hole in Sherlock Holmes. As blood blossomed across his chest, John Watson was the last thing that crossed his mind. _I’m sorry, John. I’m so sorry._ He closed his eyes. 

The game was over.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this..this scene breaks my heart and I decided to make it even more sad, if possible. Sorry not sorry. :)
> 
> I should be working on my other AU but my mind was like "Nope. Work on this now." So I did, and got it finished. This was very difficult to write because it was such an emotional scene. Plus, it is incredibly short but adding anything would have ruined it.
> 
> This is a oneshot, so no update.


End file.
